


Crystalline

by ammyamarant



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: (but genderfluid wol), Crystal Tower Questline (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, M/M, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Multi-Classed Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), m/m only because the wol doesn't know what genderfluid is yet, seeker of the sun raised with keeper of the moon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:01:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21715738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ammyamarant/pseuds/ammyamarant
Summary: He thought he'd knew what it would be like. Laughter, adventure, love... it would be like a dream, a wish, everything to travel with the Warrior of Light.Reality is rarely as sweet.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Turning my attention from my Au Ra lady to my Miqo'te idiot.

If one was to ask G'raha Tia if people's assessment of him was he was a little shite, he would say...

Yes, one hundred percent little shite.

To be honest, he did feel a little pang when he saw the Warrior of Light glare up at his hiding spot, those yellow Seeker eyes trying to find him. It faded quickly enough as the Miqo'te let out a long breath, his mage robes heaving with the motion. G'raha grinned to himself as he followed the Warrior of Light. Of course, he wouldn't let the Warrior of Light actually be _killed_. He'd join any battles if it looked like he needed it, but a white mage? Could take care of himself. Not to mention this was the Warrior of Light! He felt his heart pick up at the realization he was going to be able to watch him in action. G'raha had heard about him, brown arms stretched wide, cane in hand, ready to kill or heal at a moment's notice. Eager, he pressed closer, mindful of the monsters, only for sudden light to sear his eyes. He hissed, putting a hand up to shield them as the light exploded several times, obscuring his view. When it finally faded, G'raha looked over to see the Warrior of Light lower his arms, visibly releasing aether as the monster bodies around him slowly started to fade, unable to keep their form as their aether dissipated.

For a moment, G'raha couldn't breathe. He could make out almost every detail of the Warrior of Light's face, from the scar crossing his cheek to the highlights in his red braid tumbling over his chest. He had heard about the Miqo'te Warrior of Light, a taciturn Seeker of the Sun from parts unknown. But now, he could see the stories didn't tell everything. They didn't warn him at all.

G'raha withdrew, putting a hand to his head. He thought he had been ready. Ready to meet a warrior of newborn legend. No, of still being written legend. But nothing could have prepared him.

"Get it together, G'raha," he muttered to himself. "You've met gorgeous men before. You've met powerful men. You can work with the Warrior of LIght."

What was the Warrior of Light's name again? A'hmy, or something like that. That would be a strange name, G'raha considered. Hmy of the Antelope. Maybe A'ahmy? Less strange of a name, though still odd. He knew the Warrior of Light was a Seeker of the Sun and his name at least made it seem like he had tied to the A tribe, so that's all he could tell.

Good gods, though. He had known white mages in his studies, and none as commanding as the Warrior of Light. Perhaps that Scion Seeker, Y'shtola, but he had heard rumours about who raised her while they were both in school, and if she hadn't come out sharp witted and sharp tongued after being raised by Master Matoya, he would have been extremely shocked. But these two seemed like the exception, not the rule. And even then, the Warrior of Light held his attention far stronger than the beautiful Y'shtola ever had.

A sudden longing seized him. To follow him, the Warrior of Light. Once their explorations were done with the Crystal Tower, he knew they all would go their separate ways. The Warrior of Light had other things to worry about. He saved the realm! Exploring ruins, finding lost remnants of the past... the Warrior of Light wouldn't want to do that with him...

Oh, what was he thinking? He had just seen him fight and already he was besotted? He hadn't even spoken with him. The Warrior of Light could be horribly conceited. He could be rude. G'raha didn't know by just watching him _fight._ All he knew about his personality was he was quiet. That meant nothing about who he actually was. He could be a horrible person who managed to save the world. Being enthralled by ideas of following the Warrior of Light could end with him being heartbroken.

G'raha slapped his cheeks a few times, trying to dislodge the idea. The Warrior of Light was just going to help them on their exploration. That was all.

  


* * *

  


Any time he tried to get the Warrior of Light into a conversation, he just excused himself! G'raha puffed out his cheeks in annoyance as he watched the other Miqo'te migrate to another table, the mug of ale clenched tightly enough that his hands lost colour. He just wanted to talk! No need for the other to tense up like that. It was almost like he didn't like G'raha, which...

...

Okay, maybe him being a little shite before they met wasn't the best thing.

Fine then. G'raha nodded to himself. They at least had to work together. Maybe he could apologize. But when he looked over again, the Warrior of Light had moved again, almost curling up in a corner and not looking at-

Oh.

Childhood taunts echoed in his ears as he watched the Warrior of Light try to make himself smaller. Finally, he watched as the Warrior of Light finally made his way out of the bar. The better idea would be to let him go, alone. Let him not be around people. G'raha thought about that for a few seconds... then got up, following him out to streets of Mor Dhona. He stopped as he saw the Warrior of Light by the aetheryte, almost like he was considering leaving via Teleport. G'raha watched him for a moment, then slowly stepped closer.

"Why... why are you following me?"

The soft, uncertain voice made G'raha jump slightly. He hadn't ever expected to hear a voice like that come from such a commanding figure- no, he wasn't commanding at all right now. He looked like...

A miserable Miqo'te.

Normal.

"I-I just needed- I just needed air."

A stammer. A stutter.

Normal.

"I did too," G'raha told him, aiming for casual. "I was going to go down to the camp. Join me?"

"I... Okay."

G'raha didn't know he could physically feel his heart leap like that before.


	2. Chapter 2

A brown hand covered his, arm obscuring the notes made. G'raha looked up, startled, meeting the concerned yellow gaze with his own mismatched eyes. "You're... you're going to make yourself sick," the Warrior of Light told him, his words only stuttering briefly before taking his hand away from G'raha's. He wanted to chase the other Miqo'te's hand, take it with his own. But at the same time, indignation rose within him at being told, however indirectly, to stop. Even in the little amount they had explored of the Crystal Tower had revealed so much! He had to learn more. He was so close to-

To what? What was he about to find? Something burned within him, pulsed in his veins. One hand came to his head, covering his eye. The red one, the Allag-

G'raha didn't notice when the Warrior of Light caught him, slowly lowering him on his side instead of letting him fall. "I need-" G'raha started before the Warrior of Light shook his head, his hands moving to check his skin temperature, pulse.

"You need rest," he insisted. "I- You- don't want to get sick."

"What do you know, A'hmy," G'raha muttered to himself. "You don't know-"

He paused, wincing. The Warrior of Light had paused in his examinations, one hand starting to grip him tighter. "A'hmy?" he whispered, something trembling in his voice.

Did he say something wrong? He never had actually _asked_ his name, but wasn't that was Cid and the others called him? G'raha started to push himself up, noticing how he didn't stop him. "Did I misspeak?"

After a moment, the Warrior of Light shook his head. "No. Tis... nothing."

No. It wasn't. The need for knowledge shifted, focusing completely on the Miqo'te in front of him. Longing seized him again, now a familiar friend in the presence of the shy Warrior of Light, longing to learn why the man in front of him was so upset over using his name. Was it he didn't expect someone who wasn't close to him to call him by his name? He and Cid had worked together before this investigation into the Crystal Tower. Did most only speak his title? That sounded...

Horrible.

"A'hmy," he tried again, rolling the word in his mouth, watching the other Miqo'te shudder.

"I should-"

This close, G'raha could see how the scar on his face curled across his cheek. Where had he gotten it? Where else was that beautiful body scarred?

He wanted to follow him. To be part of his life, his fight, to loosen arrows at his side as those hands cast spells next to him. He had to. His pulse pounded in his ears, his eye, his veins as he needed, _burned_ to be part-

"Get some sleep," A'hmy said, standing.

The moment shattered. G'raha shifted to sit properly, rubbing his right eye. "Aye," he muttered, trying to ignore the pain in his red eye.

What was he doing, he thought as A'hmy left. The fascination with the Warrior of Light hadn't eased, not in the least. He wasn't going to see him after this. After this was done, he would go on his own way, studying other ruins, and the Warrior of Light, _A'hmy,_ would return to his own battles. G'raha sighed, reaching again for the notes. Even if A'hmy had wanted him to rest, he needed to go over what they had learned. Everything about the Tower, about Unei and Doga, about... everything.

Why was he so obsessed with... all of this? Something inside him wouldn't let him rest. There was something inside the Crystal Tower he needed to know about. To find. And there was something about A'hmy that he just... he needed to know. He needed to be with him. He-

He was just a little boy meeting a hero, wasn't he.

Just a little boy reading stories romantically describing battles, making them sound far more heroic than they really were.

"Get it together, Raha," he muttered. "Once this has ended, you will never see him again. You can hold back your hero worship until then."

  


* * *

  


G'raha looked at A'hmy, ears set back in embarrassment as the other Miqo'te glared up at him. It was still strange that the Warrior of Light managed to be shorter than even G'raha himself. He wasn't sure how Hydaelyn allowed Her champion to be so... short. But that wasn't the issue at the moment, as more blood dripped from his nose. He had just told a very drunk Roegadyn that he wasn't interested and... maybe told her if she wasn't so wrecked perhaps she might have a chance with the table.

G'raha might have deserved the fist to the face he received for that one.

But now A'hmy was glaring at him, not speaking. And he refused to even use Cure to seal up the wound.

G'raha might have deserved that one too.

"Do I want to know why?" A'hmy finally asked, his normally hesitant words now laced with ice.

There was a reason, just... he didn't know why he told a woman he would normally flirt back with such a rude thing. But it seemed A'hmy's presence had shaken him up so much he wasn't making proper decisions any longer. There was so much he wanted to do, wanted to learn. But he knew it wasn't possible for any of it, and-

A'hmy narrowed his eyes.

"'m sorry," G'raha finally said, the words slurring ever so slightly.

What was wrong with him? Why was he acting this way? Why-

His thoughts came to a stop as A'hmy cupped his cheek, coming closer to examine his nose. Healing magic, a Cure, wove through his body, easing the pain in his face. "You're lucky she didn't break your nose," he told G'raha. "If she- if your nose had- had been broken, this would be harder."

A'hmy's hand was soft.

And too soon, he dropped his hand, turning to leave.

"A'hmy."

"That's- that's not my. That's not my name," A'hmy- the Warrior of Light whispered, just loud enough for G'raha to hear.


	3. Chapter 3

_He should apologize to the Warrior of Light, he thought as he stared at the rest of NOAH. Calling him by the wrong name, acting like a child, wishing for something that would never come. But the words didn't come to his lips. Knowledge pounded behind his red eyes, reminding him of what the hue meant. What Unei and Doga had given their lives for. He needed to seal the tower._

_The Warrior of Light reached out, a stricken look on his face. Almost begging. Almost asking him no, don't, stay with me._

_The doors slammed closed._

G'raha opened his eyes, the blue light from the tower meeting him. Strange, he thought as he sat up. He hadn't had that dream in a while.

But the time for dreaming had long since passed. Once he changed out of his nightclothes, G'raha went to the doors of the tower, easily opening them with a touch, to meet an blinding amount of light.

Light aether, to be exact. He looked up at the unchanging sky, futilely trying to shield his eyes with one crystalline hand. It had been quite a number of years, and yet, he still wasn't used to the Light of the First.

Slowly, he lowered his hand, absently noting how far the crystallization process had gone. While it had started before he put himself to sleep, the attempt to live with the tower as long as he could forcing him to become part of it, it seemed as if each year it grew. Some day, he realized regretfully, he would be nothing but a crystal Miqo'te.

Would the Warrior of Light even recognize him now? He hoped so. His studies hadn't revealed the method of how to summon the Warrior of Light to the First yet. No, it had shown it was possible, but not how to craft the spell. G'raha pushed back a snort as he walked through the tiny, emerging town around the Crystal Tower. Spell. He was an archer, not a spell caster. A part of him wanted so badly to pout, snort, and act like the little shite he had been. But no, these people looked up to him. So instead, he would need to act older, wiser than he felt. The small hooded cape he donned felt almost smothering as he checked up on various places. The medical facilities (a tent run by the most surly drahn he had ever met) needed supplies to make medicines, and it seemed like there was a band of adventurers doing small favours for various people who could take care of that. The amaro tamer needed more ground for the flying beasts. Not much else.

And finally... the orphanage.

He was barely in sight before a happy squeal reached his ears, making his heart squeeze. It had only been in the last month little Lyna had shown any emotion. After losing her parents in such a horrific fashion, she had spent the last few years silent, almost dead as she went through the motions of living. But now, she showed emotion. Anger when he told her she had to stay at the orphanage. Happiness when another Vii gave her an apple. And now... the biggest smile he had ever seen on her face as he walked closer. "Exarch!" she cried out, beaming.

Exarch. Crystal Exarch. That was what the citizens of this tiny town had started calling him. It would be pretentious if he hadn't needed to hide his identity. "How have you been, Lyna?" he asked, wishing he had something to lean on. The tower sapped more and more of his free movement each year.

She smiled, and G'raha noticed with a pang she was now looking slightly down at him. Lyna was growing up, and like any Vii, she would soon tower over him. And then she would be off, saving people in her own way, being an adventurer-

"I've been accepted! I start basic training next week."

Pause.

Basic training? Slowly, a small smile started crossing his own face. Did she had aspirations of being a soldier? He knew she wanted to help as many as she could, to keep what happened to her from happening to others, but he didn't expect her to become a soldier of the small town growing beneath her feet. "That's wonderful," he told her warmly.

The joy seeped out of her face, leaving determination behind. "This is the best way I can think to help," she told him, her accented voice crisp and clear. "And... it's the best way I can think to repay you."

"Repay me? Lyna, you have no need-"

"You saved my life," she told him firmly. "And you have become the only family I have left. I must repay you."

Was this a Vii thing? Instead of arguing further, G'raha shook his head. Now that Lyna had pulled herself out of the deep depression of seeing her family killed before her eyes, before G'raha's late steps brought him to intervene with the Sin Eater's meal, she had become the most stubborn person he had met. Perhaps it would treat her well, he thought.

"Well then." The smile on his face grew slightly. "I wish you the best, Lyna."

She nodded, and awkwardly pulled her arms up in a salute.

  


* * *

  


There was so much he knew, yet didn't know about the Warrior of Light, G'raha thought as he turned another page. In his studies, he had pinpointed the best time to pull the Miqo'te to his side, but now he couldn't stop reading up on what had happened to him after the doors had closed. Being accused of poisoning Sultana Nanamo ul Namo. Fleeing to Ishgard, and helping end the Dragonsong War. Helping liberate not one, but two countries. And the loss... Haurchefant was but a footnote, lost to history only to be remembered as the Elezen who gave his life for the Warrior of Light. But reading more personal accounts, particularly from Count Edmont, Haurchefant's own father, he had seen how much it had affected the Warrior of Light. The sorrow that permeated even later accounts in Doma and Ala Mhigo.

It wasn't fair. The vicious thought rose quickly, seizing his mind briefly. It wasn't _fair_. He should have been with him, to help him during the hard times, to-

No. Those were the ramblings of a child. He knew better now. His future hadn't lain with adventuring.

His heart ached.

And yet, even if he managed to finish the spell to bring the Warrior of Light to the First, to save it from Rejoining with the Source, then... all his studies about how to banish the Light for good meant he would need to make sure the Warrior of Light didn't know it was him. They would be so close, working together so much, and yet... he would not ever need to know, to save him from losing yet another person as he took the Light into the Rift.

How would Lyna, growing so rapidly into a serious soldier of the growing Crystarium, deal with the "news" that the man she considered her grandfather figure was a villain?

How would the rest of the Crystarium deal with it?

It didn't matter. It was the only way. Remove the Light of the Lightwardens. It was the only way.

It wasn't fair, a part of him whispered one last time.

And it wasn't. But there was nothing he could do to change that.


	4. Chapter 4

"My lord." Lyna's voice pulled him out of his reverie. "The guard is awaiting your response."

"Oh, yes." G'raha looked over his desk briefly, finding the stack of papers quickly. He rifled through them, making sure he had signed them all, then handed them over to Lyna. "Here you go, Captain."

Instead of leaving, Lyna looked down at him, concern settling into her youthful face. "Have you taken a break today? Your voice is... a little tired."

Ah. G'raha tried not to wince, knowing he hadn't taken a break. But he didn't try to defend himself against Lyna. They both knew what he was trying to do, and what was at stake. Lyna didn't... quite know exactly what he was trying to do other than find a way to defeat the Lightwardens, but she did know it required him to pour over and over books of magical theory and information left behind by previous generations regarding Alexander and Omega, and how time and space had been torn asunder to allow both to manipulate them. There wasn't much information, but with what he had he could continue to craft the spell that would bring the Warrior of Light to the first.

"I will take a break in a bit," he assured her, watching her eyes narrow ever so slightly. He knew she saw right through him. But he couldn't stop. Not now.

"Make sure you do take that break," she told him, a slight hesitation in her movements before she turned to leave. G'raha watched her leave, then back down at his books.

It was strange, he thought as he gingerly turned a brittle page. Though much had been lost in the Eighth Umbral Calamity, including much information about the Warrior of Light, not all had been lost. And even then, he could see a strange pattern appear as he worked through newer and newer texts. Much more was lost as the death of the Warrior of Light became further and further in the past. If G'raha had tried to cast the spell to call the Warrior of Light directly after he had sealed the Crystal Tower, then it might work, but he wished to call him from another time. And the picture of the Seeker of the Sun blurred more and more with each event. Could he imagine the Warrior of Light putting down healing magic and taking up a gun in the wake of Haurchefant's death? Even then, he would have to try to imagine the Warrior of Light with the weight and sorrow up to Doma-

But much had been lost to time. His name didn't survive the weathering of time at all. Or- at least the name he gave, a vivid memory of that stutter telling him A'hmy was not his name coming to the fore. Soon enough, in the texts, his gender had been lost, using neutral pronouns and ambiguous wording. A discussion about if the Warrior of Light had been a Seeker or Keeper arose after a time. Then, finally... as if a legend, only the Warrior of Light.

G'raha still held the information within his own mind, true. But even as time went on, he could tell his own mental picture of the Warrior of Light faded little by little.

He needed to create the spell and call him soon. Before his memory turned him into just words on a page.

  


* * *

  


He deserved this, G'raha decided as he tried to shield himself from Alisaie's blows, her face nearly in tears once the last word explaining her situation had left his lips. While Y'shtola's sharp words spoken after she heard what brought her to the First had stung, nearly flaying him alive with her voice, it was nothing next to the sheer pain he could feel in Alisaie as she tried to punch him. He should have known better. Her grief after the Warrior of Light's death had been well documented, and from what he could tell, he had accidentally put her in a situation where either this happened and she was ripped from the Warrior of Light's side at the worst possible moment, or the Warrior of Light was taken from her when she needed him the most. With all that had happened... he deserved this, for forcing such a terrible situation on her.

Finally, Alisaie relented, smoothing the front of her borrowed robe, her face angry but much calmer. "Where is my brother?" she finally asked, her voice steely. "Did you also call him here for this... Light situation?"

"Alphinaud is in Kholusia," he told her. "I can send a message-"

"No, I believe I should go see him myself, thank you very much." Oh, she did not trust him in the least. "I do suppose you have either airships or flying beasts to assist me to wherever this... Kholusia is?"

"Certainly. You may find an amaro at the Amaro Keep to take you to Kholusia. And if you require more clothing while you are here, please let me know."

"You could return me to the Source instead, but that's a bit beyond your power, isn't it?"

Alisaie had her own sharp tongue, G'raha thought, watching her go. Perhaps for the best. At least she seemed like she was bouncing back already, even through the grief at leaving the Warrior of Light when and how she did.

He needed to focus. No more. Seeing Alisaie's face had told him he had to get it right. No more calling those around him to the First. No more pain of losing those around him. He had lost enough people.

He might not have a strong picture in his head anymore of the Warrior of Light, but he had to do this. He had to call him.

No more losing those he cared about.

It was time to adjust the spell one last time.


End file.
